Demon Wars: The Magic Unleashed
by Alex Mcpherson
Summary: The Buffyverse is altered and begins to almost completely parallel a fictional universe. Knowing an agreement with a hellgod will end badly for him, the Mayor takes on a secret apprentice warlock, raised from a very young age. His name? Xander Harris.
1. Chapter 1

**Date Written: **21st Feb 2010

**Author: **Alexander Mcpherson

**Email: **lyra underscore mcpherson underscore eighty-eight at live dot co dot you kay. (Tip: there are two digits in the email address.)

**Crossover: **plot-line crossover, adjusted for new verse, other than that, no actual crossing over of characters.

**Pairing: **I think this would be obvious to some if you think about it, taking the Star Wars Force Unleashed elements and fitting buffy characters into those roles within the buffyverse version of the story plotline.

**Warnings?: **A certain Mayor has never seen Star Wars, and so has fell pray to cliche'd lines.

Dark Xander.

**Genre:** Not sure on this one. It could be a humour, but the prologue is just a generic introduction that could be for any of it.

**Rating: **M, as it'll get quite violent later chapters.

**Main Characters: **Mayor Wilkins, Tony Harris, Xander Harris

**Disclaimer: **What Disclaimer? I gotta do those? But it's on Fanfiction dot com, so _obviously _I don't own most of this, only the general idea, and even then, it's not like I'm trying to... _stake_ a claim to them. I just wanna share a plot bunny I had. Yes Yes, bad pun I know. Hey, when your favourite character from the show is Xander, you gotta expect these things.

**Summary: **What happens if you take the Force Unleashed story, and make it a Buffy story?

**Notes:** Okay, so I then wrote Chapter 1... *shrug* I couldn't help it. Combined Prologue and C1 for making new story.

**Inspired by:** I was on the XanderZone Unleashed group (a group for darkXander fics, as the normal XZ group accepts only goodXander fics, whether or not he's an idiot in them) and as the name would suggest, some of the members had this image of Xander bringing down a Star Destroyer. The bunny evolved from there.

And please don't complain at the title, I worked hard on coming up with a buffy-fied version of that games' title.

**Demon Wars: The Magic Unleashed**

--

**Prologue**

An short drive from Sunnydale, in the desert, lay a small village. Technically, it bordered between the desert and forested areas, but due to the heat, the residents pretty much thought of it as being in the middle of the desert anyway.

It was only a small village, created a couple of decades previous by a few people who knew about the truth of the world with a few people who, while they didn't, did know something was wrong in Sunnydale.

A year previously, Someone was voted into office, over the son of the deceased Mayor Wilkins the II, who was the son of the first Mayor Wilkins too. However, to the ignorance of most of the town, Mayor Wilkins III had killed the genuinely-elected official, and proclaimed that he had won, and that the other guy had committed suicide after loosing.

A small few, knew. And so they left, and slowly, over that year, they and those of the village, had began to learn, and rebel against the town that ruled over the smaller village.

And now, Mayor Wilkins was striking back, now aware of what, but not whom had rallied the people.

He had watched from the command post as his secret army of the dead, aka Vampires, had swiftly and quickly moved through the village, rounding up the 'insurgents' and killing those who resisted. Men, Women, Children, after all were to be interrogated, they were all to be killed – food for the undead army.

However, the town had been prepared for his attack, and he knew it, so he had decided on a new strategy when planning it. He would have the army attack during the day.

Normally, this would be a bad thing for him, but it wasn't with his army suitably equipped. While he knew that the Gem of Amarra was somewhere in his town, he didn't know where, and it only did one vamp at a time. No, he had something else. Full-body combat gear. Due to the magic weapons the insurgents had somehow gained from the Warlock, however, normal full-body combat gear wouldn't have done squat, aside from simply preventing the vampires from being burnt to dust by the sun.

He had gone for armor, magically-protected armor.

In short, the vampires, head to toe, were completely covered, and except for at joints, where protected by the armor from any spell a low-level practitioner could throw, or any of the pre-cast stored spells the warlock had somehow made possible...

Before the town had been secured, he left for the village, just a few minutes walk away.

It wouldn't be seemly however, to be positively identified as the mayor, so he had taken to wearing, during things like this, coats and robes and other assorted full-body wear with hoods or cowls that had spells that cast a shadow across the wearer when up. A voice-changer, magical one, not technological, topped the disguise off.

He approached the Captain Vampire who commanded the portion of his secret army he had used in this endeavour.

"Report." He spoke, his voice coming out a little whispishly, almost like he had trouble breathing.

"Milord, the insurgents have been subdued and detained, only few resisted and had to be killed."

He paused, aware of one missing point, "Any sign of the warlock?" He asked, a slight warning tone in his voice.

"No, Milord. I do not beli-"

The Mayor interrupted, his hand moved up and, like he was lifting something, made a motion. "You have failed me for the last time, Captain." He scowled and continued the motion.

The Vampire had been lifted, immobile, by the first action, but when the Mayor continued, realised it was not a choking, as he had seen that Vader dude in the movie do, but the mayor was lifting his helmet from his head.

He screamed as the sunlight reached his skin, and he burned to dust.

A nearby lieutenant, the eldest childe of the now-dead-dead captain gulped when the Mayor turned to him. "I want that warlock alive! Get it done, Captain!"

The promoted vampire nodded, and a minute later, returned from rallying the troops and getting information from the interrogation teams. "Milord, One of the detainees confirmed our suspicions on where the Warlock was hiding."

"Take me there." The Mayor ordered, and the duo walked down a street.

The Mayor admired the scenery. Destruction, death, blood, he could practically taste it in the air. Smoke rose from some of the buildings, and one was a burnt out shell. Vampires could be seen ransacking various buildings.

He smirked, an evil smirk, and asked, "Do you have the identity of the Warlock yet, Captain?"

"The detainees had not given up his identity yet, milord, but I left orders that you be alerted the moment it is known."

"Good. You are not entirely incompetent, then."

As they arrived at a clearing, where a cave entrance was, another lieutenant approached.

"Milord, Captain. My teams have the entrance surrounded. It's a rather clever trap on the part of the Warlock. Permission to demonstrate?"

The Mayor nodded, and the lieutenant ordered one of his underlings to the cave entrance. As the vampire approached, he continued, "Private Dermot failed to hold one of the detainees, who attempted to escape. He is no loss, milord." The Mayor nodded. He had encouraged his army to punish those who were incompetent. The price of their failure to punish others' failure tended to be huge.

As the vamp got within a few feet of the cave, he was suddenly pushed into the air, sans his armor, including helmet. The revealed vampire burst into flames seconds later, the dust falling to the ground.

"Impressive, for a warlock."

"We lost a recon team to it, after their spellcaster was taken down during the initial engagement. We didn't realise," He pointed to what was a pile of dust near where the private had been levitated from, "Until we had secured everywhere else that they had not reported in. Sergeant Dacker, one of our strategists, has already made note of changes needed so that it doesn't happen again, should any of this happen again."

The Mayor understood, and nodded. "Well done."

"Thank you, milord." He paused, as he put a finger to his ear. "Sir, we have the identity of the warlock. One Anthony Harris. I was not aware he even knew magic..."

The Mayor began to groan, before it became a growl. "_Tony_." He spat, "I should have killed you when I had the chance." He muttered, then to the others, he spoke, "Captain, Lieutenant, keep your men back, I shall deal with... this _disgrace_ of a warlock myself."

The Mayor approached the cave entrance, and as he passed the point were the vampires had all perished, he felt the tingle of magic attempting to do the same to him, but he was a master of the dark arts, it held so sway on him.

He entered the cave, and gave a start at the scene before him. It was clearly an artificial cave, the walls were too, smooth, carved into with an artistic grace that no river of water or stick of dynamite could ever achieve. As he descended down the tunnel, he began to hear the echo of... music?

And then he smelt it, a slight hint in the air of alcohol. _Well_, he mused, _Tony always was a drinker. This will be easier than I thought._

Seconds later he came to a door, and he took a fighting stance, one hand on a sword he kept at his side at all times, the other stretched out, an incantation on his lips ready to be cast.

He kicked the door down, drawing his sword as he did, and fired a spell at where he thought the warlock to be.

He was wrong, and the fight was on.

For a minute, the pair traded blows of their swords, each time they struck, they paused, pushing against one another, before they would separate and attack with a spell or few.

And each time they locked blades, it was clear that they had known each other for a long time, perhaps even trained at the same place, for their blades were similar.

The design of Tony's blade was a pretty obvious indicator of the man's alignment. Beautiful effigies and artistic designs that made observers think of peace and tranquillity, etched into the blade, with the pommel and handle being similarly designed, a blade of peace, defence. Not attack.

But Wilkins' blade was, while similar, also an obvious indicator of his alignment. Where tonies' blade held beautiful effigies, his held scary carvings of demonic entities, pommel and handle similarly decorated. A Blade of war, offense.

After that minute of fighting, both with magic and sword, he gained the upper hand, and was about to make a decapitation stroke, when his sword flew out of his hand.

In shock, he stared at the source, as the disarmed Tony Harris too looked over... and shouted, "Alexander, Get out of here!"

"A son, tony? My my, and here I though you swore never to marry, never to have a family." He chuckled darkly, before he unleashed a spell, that instantly ended the life of the Warlock Tony Harris.

The 3 or 4 year old boy, Alexander Lavelle Harris, looked at his dad in shock for all of a second, before he charged at the big man who had killed his daddy.

The Mayor just chuckled, as he blocked everything from the boy, who clearly held power. He stopped his chuckle when one particular uncontrolled blow of magic, almost knocked him off of his feet. Indeed, this boy held _a lot_ of power.

Plans spilled into his mind, remembered his old nemesis, a god whom he had made a deal with to get the hellmouth all to his lonesome.

Whom would return when she had her Key, and would ruin all of his plans.

Instead of killing the boy, he instead knocked the kid out as the boy tired magically. He had a lot of training to do with the boy, in secret.

--

**Chapter 1**

It was Cordelia Chases' first day on the job. It wasn't a typical job, which was, so she thought currently, a good thing. But, it wasn't the kind of a-typical job she'd thought it'd be, which she wasn't sure about being a good or bad thing.

That, was because she got to work with some hero kind of guy, just her age from the looks of him. All she knew about him though, she could put on a single piece of A5 notepaper. His real name was only known to her employer, instead he went by a pseudonym, 'Nightstalker'. He had been raised since he could remember by her employer, his parents, whoever they were, were dead. He had spent his formative years in complete seclusion, no one except a select few even knew he existed, and it showed as the first time they met, he was a stuttering idiot. And that he was tasked with dealing with the bad elements in and around Sunnydale, and sometimes farther afield, that effected the running, safety and prosperity of the town.

Unfortunately, part of her job involved something that her employer had seen fit to purposely skip in his private tutelage of the young Nightstalker... Driving lessons.

Amazingly, her employer had a rather unique choice of mobility for his charge.

A custom-spec Winnebago. It moved faster than it should, and it's handling was too good for a vehicle of its size, power and physical dimensions should have allowed. She didn't know that there was magic that allowed it to take corners like she had been shown when she was hired.

The day before, she had been shown the vehicle, and given a chance to test drive it, taught how to get the most out of it much quicker than she should have suspected or known was possible.

A long time from then, she'd realise that Magic was in heavy use in *everything* her employer did or was directly involved with.

Her first day, and she was already getting annoyed yet used to what Nightstalker did.

She remembered that morning, when she had used her skills to liven up the Winnebago.

--

_Flashback_

Shaking her head, she reached down and indicated to one of the low-level people who she got the _joy_ of working with now.

"These lights here, have no purpose, and when I was test driving yesterday, were a _severe_ distraction. They seriously mess with my eyes, and from what I heard about the last few drivers, did the same with theirs. Remove them, or... Here I'll do it!" she got tired as the underling continued to protest.

A year ago, and she wouldn't have thought she'd know how to change a light bulb _quite_ like she was doing: changing the type and all the electrical switcheroos to make sure the different light didn't get blown up or not light at all.

As she was finishing up, she rolled out from under the jacked-up Winnebago to switch tools, and saw in the corner of her eyes, the young lad she was to drive around dive behind some boxes. With a roll of her eyes, she rolled back under, to close the electrical box, wincing at the fact that with the force needed to turn the locks, she'd break a nail.

The Cordelia of a year ago would be absolutely horrified, but this Cordelia, well, she wasn't, although she hated this sort of thing regardless.

After her group were killed in something that psycho 'Buffy' Summers was involved in, much didn't get past her cool exterior anymore.

She got it shut, and rolled back out from under the vehicle, and got up off the trolley carefully, remembering when she saw a mechanic try to do it too quick and slipping so bad he had concussion, his head having struck concrete with a fair bit of force.

She walked a few metres to the right-side door, and minutes later, the lights of the vehicle, inside and out, came on. Nodding in satisfaction, she switched the electrical off. Exiting it, she then added the to technician guy, "We have to do something about the designs here, though."

"Hey! What you doing to my ride?" The shy guy finally spoke, coming from out behind the stacked boxes the other side of the large hanger/garage.

Cordy just turned to him, and raised an eyebrow. "And you are?"

"I'... I'm n-Nightstalker." He stuttered, calming down from the anger at hearing she was going to change his oversized-van.

"Hmm. Well, _Nightstalker_, Any and all changes I make to this Fashion Monstrosity, will either enhance its capabilities, make it safer for us to use, and, or, make it less of an eyesore, to either or both of us."

From behind Nightstalker, a Shapeshifter appeared. He had played with magic a bit too much and gotten stuck with having just one magic ability, albeit a rather useful one – the ability to mimic anyone. Unfortunately for him, however, he had tried to mimic the Mayor at one time, unaware of the danger around doing so, and gotten drafted with no way of backing out, into helping young Nightstalker hunt and kill, and learning how to use and improve those skills.

"I would strongly urge you, Miss Chase, to cease your current actions. Many of your predecessors have had... trouble... with similar matters. It is partially why there has been a large turnover for your position."

"And you are?"

The fella winced, almost imperceptibly, as he replied, "Mystique." In demonstration, the guy changed from his appearance of a middle-aged brown-haired guy, to a young, bald Captain Picard, amazingly including the red Starfleet uniform from the 23rd/early 24th century era of the show.

The fact that she recognised the mixed-up pop-culture reference to a guy who resembled a certain Professor from a particular comic, recognised the name of another character from said comic, and the origin of the one he now appeared to be, and the meaning behind why she did recognise them, was lost on her, as she nodded, accepting this. After learning about vamps and demons and stuff like that, including magic, she wasn't that surprised at the demonstration of power.

But she did say, "So, who'd you piss off to get that pseudonym?"

"Your Employer." Came the reply.

Amused, she smiled as she shrugged. "So, Nightstalker, if you'll excuse me, I just need to go pick a design that won't get us noticed _quite_ as much as the current one will."

Without waiting for a reply, she left, but she did sense the reaction she got.

The poor kid had been too stunned by her directness and, beauty, she noticed, to reply proper beyond the 'ungh?' she had heard as she left. That she swayed her hips a bit more probably had something to do with it.

She distantly heard 'Mystique' say to the boy, "Pick that jaw off the ground, boy, before you start drooling."

She smiled.

_End Flashback_

--

She shook her head, as she waited in the Winnebago, parked outside of some club about a half-hours drive outside of Sunnydale, for the kid to come out of the vampire nest.

"_I could do with a running pickup, Chase!_"Came over the radio.

Instead of a CD radio, she had a CB Radio, or rather the modern, more up-to-date equivalent. If she was going to last, that had to change. Kinda. She couldn't listen to her iPod during a mission, she knew that, but no music entirely? Ugh.

The Winnebago was amazingly quiet at idle. She had leafed through the instruction manual that listed some of the spells in use, and which was mostly cosmetic-related ones, like one to render the engine really quiet. Not silent, that was practically impossible for long-term spells, but at idle, the already quiet engine was barely audible to even a vampires' ears at 20 metres. Inside, it was the same kind of thing to a normal person's ears, just barely there, not enough to be noticeable unless you were listening for it.

But rev the engine, and it would sound like a normal engine (quieter, but still noticeable over most other normal-volume sounds)

She revved the engine, and started it rolling, pulling out of the car park across the street from the club, turning onto the road so that the drivers' side, the left side for those right-seat-car-left-lane-road-driving people out there, As she started to pull away, in the wing mirror she saw the kid jump at the van and grab hold of a bar, presumably there only to let him keep hold while he opened the door during a running-pickup.

She smirked at the few vamps, who were smouldering and bursting into flames the moment they got into the direct sunlight chasing the van, and heard the door shut.

"Did you get all of em?"

A grunt of affirmation, then he added, "Most of them were idiots. Hardly worth the effort to dust 'em."

"They're Vamps. Don't forget that."

"Why should I?"

"Why should you forget? Or why should you not forget?" She asked rhetorically. "They're vamps. The bad guys."

A grunt, and she heard the soft steps as the kid moved into the back.

In the back two-thirds of the van were 5 rooms. The forward-most pair were, left-side, a weapons lockup, and right-side, she had no-idea, not being allowed into it – Nightstalker was the only one with the key. She heard him open up the weapons lockup, and place his variety of bladed weapons in, and heard the various slight clicks as he then disarmed his various guns and too, put those away.

She chanced a glance in the rear-view mirror, which there more so he could see the driver as the driver replied to queries and orders, than for her to see him as he asked questions or gave commands.

He was leaning against the lockup, a weary sigh on his face in an odd moment of weakness. When she glanced again, she saw his back, as he went into the rear-most room, which she guessed was his bedroom.

The middle pair of rooms was a washroom, and a bunk room, presumably for herself and a guest, should they ever go on a long mission.

She focused back on the road, and smirked when she pulled past a Ferrari. She wasn't even breaking the speed limit – the Ferrari looked brand new so the driver was obviously careful not to do anything that'll get it dented or crushed.

A glance in the right-side mirror and she smirked as the Ferrari revved up to overtake her, in the right-hand-lane too, when a cop-car flashed lights.

A glance told her that her own speed had been keeping to just on the limit. A chuckle made it out as the faint sound of police sirens made it into the cabin.

--

**Authors Note: I have not played Star Wars: The Force Unleashed. What you see here is either my trying to add in things I only know about the game's plot, bits of scenes I've seen in trailers and/or the bits I've seen when I went onto youtube and watched the various cinematics some users nicely put onto the web because they knew how PC-only gamers were annoyed at the console-only initial release. And no, I have not got the PC version [yet]. Next month, I'm trying to stay down to one new game every two or three months.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Notes:** Small chapter before some action.

**Date Written: **22nd Feb 2010

**Demon Wars: The Magic Unleashed**

--

**Chapter 2**

Nightstalker watched, from the shadows, as his latest in a long-line of drivers left for her home.

She intrigued him. She was still in Highschool, but had become aware of Vampires, Demons and Magic a year ago.

Now, she worked for the Mayor in secret, believing she was fighting evil. He chuckled darkly, at the thought.

She was fighting evil, for evil. She just didn't know it.

He scowled when a pair of vamps tried to stop her at some traffic lights. She didn't even know he was there, as two of his stakes flew out of his hands, and were embedded in the chests of the two, a good distance from his position. Long-range precision strikes like that, he had mastered years ago, only needing a little magic to maintain accuracy at that distance.

Cordelia Chase drove passed, the vamps hidden from her sight as they turned to dust by their 'broken down' car.

She was, direct. He hadn't expected that. The others were either too shy, too afraid or overly ass-kissing, and usually ended up dead or fired (then dead) because of mistakes on their part, like trying to make his van more homelike for them.

From what she said that day, he knew that she was going to be way different, and not do anything like that for just herself anything and everything she will do would have reason, one he couldn't exactly argue against.

--

Mystique winced, as the pain hit like a brick in a boxers' glove to the head. Starts off soft, but milliseconds later it hurts like hell.

Nightstalker was knelt before him, conversing with his 'master' over.

He really didn't like that part of his contract, serving as the vessel of for Mayor Vader to possess him.

"Another mission?" He asked, as he had never been able to remember anything about any of the possession-conversations.

Nightstalker nodded as he stood, then scowled, "Turn back."

Mystique realised he was still in the form of the Mayor, and quickly shifted to his more comfortable 'default' form, a non-descript brown-haired youth of indeterminate age, exactly as he appeared when he had started messing with magic, all those decades ago. While his current natural form was, well, not even close in appearance to a certain characters' natural form, it was sufficiently odd that he would never be able to go out without changes and not be noticed.

The pair walked out of the small room that served as the communications room in the Warehouse that had become the home of the pair, half of it served as a training ground, while the other half was divided between the garage and 'apartment' the two shared.

Mystique left for the kitchen, and started to make their drinks, while Nightstalker left for the training ground, and started his usual mayhem.

Sipping on his hot drink, he began to smile slightly as the healing potion he had made a permanent part of this drinks' recipe began to kick in.

The sound of an explosion, along with a curse, and he chuckled. It wasn't often, hell it was damn rare, that the boy let himself be distracted enough for his training regime to suffer. When he was distracted though, well, Mystique treasured those moments that he had seen the results. Nothing bad, for Nightstalker anyway.

And hell, he liked the new girl, she had spunk. A thought he dared to hold, and his chuckle turned into a snicker.

--

Cordelia scowled at her phone. It had barely been a week, and this was the fourth mission that he had gotten, and they had this thing against having more than one driver on payroll for him.

She looked up from the phone, as she put it in her pocket, and she focused back on the teacher who had continued droning on, unaware of the various students' in the room chatting away or otherwise engaged.

"Bad breakup?"

She scowled at the one who had spoken, it was that Buffy again.

Honestly, she didn't know why she stayed in school anymore. Either herself or the Slayer.

"No, just some idiot taking too much on himself." She muttered low. Slayer hearing as she knew, Buffy heard it.

"So, you and, um, Jesse, wasn't it? How are you two doing?"

Cordelia rolled her eyes. A few months ago, while fleeing from a group of assassins, she had gotten trapped with the geek in Buffy's basement. She didn't really care greatly for the guy, but she did like him enough to get the kisses when she could. Ever since the previous year, it had been hard to find, never mind keep, a boyfriend from the 'in' crowd. And she wasn't even bothered by that, not since Harmony and the others were killed.

With a sigh, she shrugged and told Buffy, "We split up about three weeks ago. Mutually agreed upon. We just wouldn't work long-term, and neither of us were kidding ourselves about what we felt. Sure I liked him, good kisser, but we just don't feel that way about each other."

"Oh. Three weeks?"

"Yeah, we've not exactly been advertising that we were together, never mind split now."

"Oh."

The bell rang, and the pair went to the library where her watcher, some stuffy git named Price-tag or something, was talking on the phone. "I don't care what the coven said, Rupert. There is not a single sign of... Hold on, Miss Summers and Chase just arrived. I'll call you back, Rupert... No I bloody well won't do that, I told the council and I told the coven, and I'll tell you... Oh. You're glad that I won't? But I thought.... Ah, right. That. Sorry, Rupert. I don't know why I forgot. Yes, I'll remember that. Yes _that_ I will do, but not the other. Tell Madame Trudy that I send my... _love_."

Cordelia raised an eyebrow at the hostility that the watcher had shown about whoever 'Madame Trudy' was.

As the man put the phone down, she had to ask, "So, English Two, I take it that coven wanted you to do something, and you and English One disagreed?"

The man sighed, "How many times, Miss Chase, It's Wesley, not 'Price-tag', and certainly not 'English Two'."

Buffy snickered, and said, "Hey, It's a good nickname."

"Says the 'Buffster'."

"Now now, Delia Smith, no getting snappy." Buffy retorted.

"Whatever. Can't join you on Research tonight, got an idiot friend taking too much onto himself, and kinda have to help out."

"Same idiot you were helping the last few nights?" Wesley asked, as he opened a book.

Cordelia paused, as she saw that he wasn't asking for any particular reason other than to make conversation and be civil. "Yeah. He's kinda got way too much on his plate."

"And you wanted to help..." He nodded slowly, then spoke, "I guess Miss Summers and I can go a night without your help, then."

"Um, Actually, I kinda wanted to talk about future nights too..."

Buffy looked at her aghast, and asked, "You're pulling out?"

"Sorta. When I can I'll join in, but I gotta say, I'm not that good at research anyway, and I need to start finding ways to payin' my way after Dearest Mom and Dad fled town after what happened last month."

"Well, I had hoped the council would agree to giving you a wage," Wesley began, looking up with a sad look, "But too many of them got it into their heads that Slayers only need enough to pay for a room somewhere and a bit of food. Ever since that Travers took over it's all really gone downhill, their end and none of the support groups various families of previous slayers had started over the years have ever gotten the financial footing anywhere near the level they'd need to continue supporting them."

Buffy asked, "Is Giles still working to change that?"

A nod, and, "The coven I was speaking about? Refused to take direct action. Say they've got something else to be worried about, but aren't telling much."

Cordelia filed that tidbit away, as the conversation continued for another half hour before she left, making her way to the place that wouldn't be home for much longer.

--

An hour later, and she arrived in her uniform at the warehouse, and pulled into the indoor parking space in her car.

She saw Nightstalker waiting impatiently at the van.

"You're late."

"One, I've still got," She looked at her watch, "10 minutes before that deadline you set. And two, the Boss said I gotta keep this job secret, and if that means being as much as half an hour late, then that's fine unless he sends me the message directly."

The boy gazed at her, his outward hostility reduced, and nodded. "Fine." He ground out, "get your stuff into your bunkroom and then get us out of here. Times-wasting."

She sighed, and within minutes, she had her two bags in the Winnebago, and the engine running, waiting for Mystique to finish loading up supplies for the week-long trip.

She had already prepared an excuse to give Wes, and the school, tomorrow morning, if she had time to call it in.

--

**Authors Note: I have not played Star Wars: The Force Unleashed. What you see here is either my trying to add in things I only know about the game's plot, bits of scenes I've seen in trailers and/or the bits I've seen when I went onto youtube and watched the various cinematics some users nicely put onto the web because they knew how PC-only gamers were annoyed at the console-only initial release. And no, I have not got the PC version [yet]. Next month, I'm trying to stay down to one new game every two or three months.**


End file.
